


Wrong Turn

by Weconqueratdawn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Horror, M/M, Magical Realism, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 12:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weconqueratdawn/pseuds/Weconqueratdawn
Summary: Will thinks their escape has been suspiciously easy. Hannibal tells him not to worry. Are they really living a charmed life or is there something more sinister going on?“Don’t you think this is odd?” Will said. “Or is this just normal life for you?”A long straight road unfurled before them. At the end of it lay Texas, the border perilously close.Hannibal was a picture of ease at the wheel. “You know, expecting the worst provides no protection when the worst actually happens,” he said. “Besides, we’re not crossing. Only taking in the view.”“I didn’t mean that,” Will said, checking the map again. An intersection would sweep them away, skirting Brownsville, back towards the waiting ocean. “I meant… Everything else. Something is different.”Written for the FannibalFest Fanbook for the prompt ‘trouble in paradise’.





	Wrong Turn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sugarmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarmouse/gifts).



> First off, I haven’t got my hands on the fanbook yet so I don’t know who prompted this - if it was you, come say hi!!!!!
> 
> I was really excited to be asked to write something in aid of FannibalFest 2018 - it was so nice to be part of it in a tiny way. A big well done to everyone there for organising such an impressive event and, by all accounts, doing it so well! Hopefully next time I can be there *crosses fingers*
> 
> Sticking to the word count was SO HARD (and I didn’t really help matters by challenging myself to write as full a story as I could) but I enjoyed writing this so much. Hope you enjoy it too :)

One leap into the unknown was all it had taken for the universe to accept Will without struggle.

Their escape had been easy, even flawless; solutions to problems presented themselves in a long string of happenstance. The tide washed them up not twenty feet from Chiyoh’s boat. For broken ribs and penetrating wounds, there was an unlocked veterinarian’s, replete with x-ray equipment and prepped surgical ward. They left Chiyoh behind; soon after there was a lazy convalescence along the Cuban coast. And, before long, the world beckoned once again. 

Nothing seemed able to stop them. Maybe they fell through more than just the surface of the Atlantic; maybe it was the choice Will had made to fall. Maybe their bodies were still on the ocean floor, leaving them to roam unimpeded; a pair of living ghosts. 

Hannibal just said: “You worry too much, Will.”

Hannibal didn’t worry about anything. Colours were brighter, saturated with life. The air had a weightless texture, like silk. When he wanted something, it appeared--even Will. Existence blazed with opportunity, beauty, delicious complexity. It was simple; as easy as paradise.

If he hadn’t known better, Will would’ve chalked it up to their near-death experience--a sprig of zest. Or perhaps he’d finally buried himself too deep in Hannibal’s mind; taken on his worldview permanently.

“Don’t you think this is odd?” Will said. “Or is this just normal life for you?”

A long straight road unfurled before them. At the end of it lay Texas, the border perilously close. 

Hannibal was a picture of ease at the wheel. “You know, expecting the worst provides no protection when the worst actually happens,” he said. “Besides, we’re not crossing. Only taking in the view.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Will said, checking the map again. An intersection would sweep them away, skirting Brownsville, back towards the waiting ocean. “I meant… Everything else. Something is different.”

Hannibal flashed him a grin as carefree as El Diablo’s. “Life without worry is unclouded. Senses are sharper, more immediate. You’ll get used to it.”

Something appeared on the horizon; a turn-off sign.

Will frowned and studied the map. “That worries me,” he said. “That road’s not supposed to be there.”

As they approached, Hannibal slowed the car. Will waited for the sign to become legible--it didn’t. Paint had rubbed away, leaving the name obscured. The only visible letters read ‘I’, ‘F’, and ‘N’. 

The car stopped, engine ticking in the heat. Close to, they could read a smaller sign below it: ‘ _Tourists Welcome’._

“Why only in English?” Will asked, at the same time as Hannibal re-started the engine.

“We can ask them when we get there,” Hannibal said. “Time to face your worries, Will.”

*

The town was thirty minutes’ drive down the turn-off. Will puzzled over the map, wondering why they hadn’t driven straight into the Gulf. The road must’ve twisted, turning them back south.

It was deathly silent when they reached the town square. The slam of the car door was loud and abrupt but no one came to see who made it. 

“There’s nothing here,” Will said. “Come on, let’s get back on the road.”

Hannibal was frowning at a cobbled lane which disappeared between two buildings. He shook his head. “May as well stretch our legs.”

Will followed him, around a corner and into a local store. Except, inside, it wasn’t a local store.

Aisles of an impossibly vast supermarket stretched into the distance. The air was frigid; air-conditioned stale. Muzak played from unseen speakers; the lighting was cold, white, and a shade too bright. 

“I’m worrying again,” Will said. “This seems wrong, like it shouldn’t be here.”

Hannibal stood before a looming wall of refrigerators. Will’s footsteps echoed with uncanny clarity as he joined him. Condensation dripped, misting their glass walls. They were empty, save for one plastic-wrapped roll of smoked cheese. Further down, they found four cartons of milk and nothing else. 

The refrigerator hum grew louder. Underneath it, the muzak switched to Bach; the Goldberg Variations, brittle and tinny.

Hannibal’s nose wrinkled. Will grabbed his arm to pull him back towards the entrance, but Hannibal walked on regardless. There was no choice but to follow.

On they went, through maze-like aisles, with only each other and the scuff of their feet for company. The air grew steadily cooler.

They found shelves full of jars; pickled cabbage, beets. Rows and rows of them, all identical; hundreds, maybe thousands. The produce aisles just held potatoes, all rotten. The smell was vile, choking.

The temperature dropped noticeably--they’d reached the frozen food. Banks of chest freezers laid out in grids, emitting a quiet murmuring buzz. Signs jostled, the kind intended to entice customers into a gluttony posing as frugality.

Here, they all said one thing: _meat_.

Both of them halted. A creeping horror prickled up Will’s neck, over his scalp.

Hannibal was pale; Will placed a hand on his back. “I don’t know what this place is,” he whispered. “But we need to leave. Now.”

Hannibal didn’t answer. He was staring at the nearest freezer.

Will felt the pull, too; to lift the lid and look inside. He could almost see it: a little girl’s hand, folded neatly on her thin chest. The other splayed at her side, the bones too prominent. _There would be no meat on her, they’d have to make soup._

Will swallowed his cry, seized Hannibal’s shoulders to march him out. He put up no resistance; a dead weight, all the way back to the car.

*

It took Will a few tries to find the main road again. 

The first led only to a dilapidated barn; door slack on its hinges, revealing a sliver of darkness beyond. Will tried not to look too closely. He kept the car doors locked, retraced the route into town, and tried another.

The second one didn’t get them far. It petered out into dust, right in the middle of a barren field. In the centre was a slumped pile of rags. Will told himself it was a fallen scarecrow and reversed out, back to the square. There, he tried not to panic.

Hannibal offered nothing, head turned to look back down the cobbled lane.

The third was the charm. When the turn-off sign rose up ahead, Will could’ve wept with relief. On the reverse was written: _‘Now Leaving El Infierno--See You Next Time!’_

Will screeched the car round, back onto the highway. He checked the mirror, half-expecting something to follow them. Nothing did.

It was at least an hour later when he felt calm enough to speak. Hannibal still hadn’t said a word.

“Only you could walk into hell as a tourist,” Will told him. “Just remember, there will always be trouble in paradise. One wrong turn is all it takes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t want to spoil anything by putting this at the beginning but I also took inspiration from another prompt I found while on pillowfort: _a couple chooses the actual literal Hell as their summer vacation destination_. It’s not quite what I’ve written here but that was just crying out for a Hannigram take, amirite or amirite???
> 
> Thanks for reading - kudos and comments gratefully received as always! And this fic is [on tumblr here](https://weconqueratdawn.tumblr.com/post/179218287577/wrong-turn-hannibalwill-fic) should you want to do me a solid and share it :)
> 
>  ~~[Here I am on tumblr.](http://weconqueratdawn.tumblr.com)~~ I’ve left tumblr due to their policy update of December 2018 and now you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/weconqueratdawn), [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/weconqueratdawn) and [dreamwidth](https://weconqueratdawn.dreamwidth.org/).


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